PRoom
by Citricious
Summary: Mikoto accepted the job offer for the money, but now he’s getting much more than he bargained for, and he’s finding that keeping his job a secret is easier said than done, and that's the least of his problems. AU Miko x Toru, minor Yuu x Miko Chapter 4 up
1. Chapter 1: The Job

Kay, I don't own Princess Princess nor do I own any of the characters. I daresay that if I did, it would be much longer and more romantically dramatic... with more pretty dresses. xD

Summary: Mikoto accepted the job offer for the money, but now he's getting much more than he bargained for, and he's finding that keeping his job a secret is easier said than done, and the least of his problems. AU Mikoto x Tooru, with hints of Yuujiro x Mikoto

Anywho, I know some people are a kinda out-of-character, but regardless of that, I hope that you will please read, enjoy and review.

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**Mikoto looked up at the ceiling, averting his eyes from the gaze of the inspector. "Remember why you're here, Mikoto. Remember the money." The pink-haired boy reminded himself. It was difficult, he found, to not squirm when a frightening yet also very… feminine man was looking you over, scribbling on a colourful notepad. He was trying hard not to move too much, and held a tight grip on the arms of his chair, hoping that he would be dubbed 'worthy' by the assistants running circles around him with measuring tapes and cameras. The boy desperately wished there was some other sort of job available to him, but apparently fit, hard-working 15 year-old boys are very difficult to employ. Perhaps it was because he hadn't had't any previous work experience, or maybe it was because he had just arrived in Kyoto a mere five days ago. Whatever the reason, though, this was the only job he could find, and he didn't intend to loose his only opportunity to support himself so that his mother could focus on the mortgage. 

"So, Yutaka Miko-chan, is it?"

"It's Yutaka Miko_to_. Not Miko." He interrupted the inspector. He refused to be referred to as a girl when he was _clearly_ a guy.

The four female assistants all gasped in unison, showing that back-talk towards the tall blonde was simply _not_ acceptable. However, the inspector merely perked an eyebrow and waved off the comment with his hand. "Yes yes, Mikoto." He mumbled, then quickly wrote something on his notepad and continued. "So Miko-chan," Mikoto twitched. "My name is Shihoudani Yuujiro and from this day forward, you will refer to me as 'manager'. Comprende?" He looked up from his notepad, and grinned mischievously at the young boy. Never in his life had he seen a boy who would be better fit to the job.

Mikoto's eyes widened, his brain unable to 'comprende' what had just happened. Or rather, his brain didn't _want_ to comprehend what had just occurred. He had been hired by this… Shihoudani guy, and he would be working at the P-Room – the most popular Hostess club there was in Kyoto. Host_ess_. That in itself was worrying enough, but what really made the boy uncomfortable, was the 'trial outfit' he was wearing. The assistants donned the same dress as he, however Mikoto was sure that he didn't look nearly as attractive in a maid uniform as the women did. Furthermore, he was positive that long curly hair did absolutely _nothing_ for him. However, Shihoudani did. He thought it did a _lot_ for him. Unfortunately that was all that mattered.

"Miko-chan? Do you understand?" Yuujiro asked, suddenly worried about the growing look of fear in the young boy's eyes. He was sure that he had thoroughly gone over everything that warranted any sort of warning, and so the only conclusion that could be drawn was that Mikoto was still nervous about having to dress like a girl. Yuujiro grinned. He knew there was nothing else he could say to comfort the boy, and so he quickly decided that he should instead comfort himself via a flustered Mikoto. Stepping forward and clasping the small boy's hands, he looked into the worried pink eyes and smiled. "Miko-chan, I know for certain that you'll do a splendid job as a hostess. If anything at all is troubling you, just let me know." Mikoto gave a curt 'thank you' nod, still sour about being called 'Miko-chan'. "Now, should I again go over the sexual harassment safety preca-"

"No!" Came the loud answer from a flushed face. Mikoto had heard enough about the strange things that dirty old men might want to do to him, and frankly, he really didn't want to shatter his already broken innocence into a trillion pieces. "I- I'm perfectly fine, thank you. I understand the terms, and I am ready to start the job whenever you need me." He said, a forced smile shining on his face.

Yuujiro smiled back, mentally cheering for procuring a blush from the boy for the umpteenth time. "I'm glad to hear it. However," The manager suddenly took on a serious tone. "Whenever you smile, it should be a _real_ smile, and not forced. Fake smiles are insulting." Mikoto nodded, not voicing the fact that _any_ smile from him was better than no smile at all. "Now, your first day will be in two weeks, and your shift will be from seven until nine pm. You should be here at six o'clock though, so that you will have ample time to get ready and be introduced to everyone. You will be permitted to bring this set of clothing home, but you must wear it at work. You are dismissed."

Mikoto bowed politely, hiding his face which had contorted into a strange mix of frustration, anger and irritation. How on earth could Shihou- no, the manager manage to look so innocent but still bear such horrible news! "Thank you very much, I will see you tomorrow. Please have a good day." When he lifted his head, he attempted to give a real smile before spinning on the ball of his foot, his dress gracefully spreading out around him, and walking out the door. As soon as the boy exited the building, he took a sharp left into a small, dark alley and swiftly changed out of his costume and into his school uniform. Quickly looking over his workmanship, Mikoto bolted towards his new school. It was the first day he would be there, and if there was one thing he didn't want, it was to make a bad impression by being late. Granted, it would have been so much easier to get to the school and then change but, there was no way in _hell_ that he was wearing a _dress_ anywhere near any prospective friends. It was a new city, a new school, c_ertainly_ a new job, and Mikoto didn't want to start this new life of his off on the wrong foot.


	2. Chapter 2: A Sad Realization

I don't own Princess Princess or any of it's characters. If I did, why would I be writing fan fiction about it?

Hee hee, I love the last line. Please read, enjoy and review.

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The second bell rang just as Mikoto slipped into his homeroom class. A sigh of relief left his mouth as he quickly sat down in an empty seat in the back corner of the room - he was just thankful that he didn't miss anything because of his job interview earlier that day. As the bell chimed, a young man who couldn't have been much older than 26 stood in front of the class, a friendly smile gracing his face. 

"Welcome, everyone, to the famed Kyoto Academy for boys. I hope that you all have a wonderful and educational experience here. My name is Shuuya Arisada, and I will be both your homeroom teacher and your history teacher. The informational and introductory assembly will be starting in five minutes, so until then I will allow you all to speak amongst yourselves." As soon as the permission had been granted, the entire class burst out into loud conversations, and without missing a beat, Yoshida quickly added a powerful "_Quietly!_ I don't wish to see myself as a particularly mean teacher, but if you continue to create unneeded noise, then the whole class will have to suffer a fate worse than detention." At once the classroom conversations mellowed to a whisper, before gradually working up to a bearable volume.

Mikoto stretched his arms above his head, yawning as he did so, and sleepily sprawled his upper body on his desk. "I'm so tired" he thought, "I haven't been getting much sleep lately. I guess that'll have to change now that I'm in school again." Gently nuzzling his face into his arms, he created a comfortable substitute pillow for himself. "Well, at least I can use this five minutes to relax." He murmured quietly.

"Yutaka-san?" There was no response. "Yutaka-san." Still nothing. The blue-haired boy sitting next to Mikoto huffed as he crossed his arms, slightly annoyed that his neighbour wasn't answering him. "Yutaka-san!"

Mikoto's eyes flew open as he realized someone was calling his name. "What! Why are you-" The boy turned around only to find the blue-haired menace that had given him such a shock.

"Hiya. My name's Kouno Tooru, glad to meet you." Smiling nicely, the boy stretched out a hand for Mikoto to accept and shake.

"Heya," Mikoto replied, sleepily rubbing his eyes before he shook hands with Kouno. "It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Yutak-"

"Yutaka Mikoto," Tooru finished, "I know who you are." He continued, apparently catching Mikoto off-guard with the information.

Mikoto twitched, "How does he already know who I am!" He wondered, scared that he might have uncovered a strange stalker of his. "H- How exactly would you know that, Kouno-san?" He asked hesitantly, attempting to hide the fear in his voice.

Tooru looked honestly surprised at the question. "Well, considering the fact that we went to the same elementary school for two years, I should be wondering why you don't already know my name."

Mikoto stared at Tooru, incredulous, "Are you serious? We went to school together before?" He would not have guessed that. Ever. His name didn't even ring a bell, not even his face! (And he was positive that he would have remembered someone with bright blue hair.) The boy nodded, then shrugged.

"Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised, we never really spoke to each other. Anyway, I suppose now is as good a time as any other to start getting to know each other, ne?" Tooru smiled as he spoke the last sentence, and Mikoto stared at the boy in awe. If he had been forgotten by a previous school-mate, he wouldn't be reacting so calmly.

"Y- Yeah… I guess so. Umm, so how was your summer? Did you do anything interesting?" After a while of chatting, Mikoto had gotten used to speaking to Tooru, and a small smile crept onto his face as he realised he liked talking to the blue-haired boy.

The day continued to go well - the introduction ceremony was pulled off without a hitch, and Mikoto found out that Tooru was in all of his classes. As the bell for the end of school chimed, there was a mad rush of teenagers to their lockers, the new first years clasping onto any solid surface, hoping to survive the unexpected stampede.

Tooru clung tightly to Mikoto as they hid in a small break between two blocks of lockers. "A-Are they gone yet?" He asked nervously, his voice an octave higher and quieter than usual. Mikoto nodded furiously in response, looking straight ahead in order to ignore the strange blush that was slowly covering his face.

"Yeah. I think they're pretty much gone now." Carefully slipping out into the hallway, Mikoto pulled Tooru out with him, glad that he was no longer in such a confined space with him. "It's only the first years now." He stated, slightly surprised at how dead the hallways seemed after only five brief minutes.

Tooru, doing his best to hide the faint red that coloured his cheeks, scurried to his locker and began to pack his bag. "Thanks Yutaka-kun, I didn't know after school would be so…"

"Lively, frightening, packed, animalistic, barbaric?" Suggested a boy next to Tooru, as he swung his backpack over one shoulder. Both Mikoto and Tooru looked from each other, and then to the messy green-haired boy before the trio burst into laughter simultaneously.

"Haha, y-yeah, those are all pretty accurate, I'd say." Giggled Tooru, failing at calming his laughter.

Mikoto grinned, "I don't think anyone expected it. Anyway, you're welcome."

"I'm Sakamoto Akira, by the way." Stated the new boy, stepping closer to the duo so that a small circle was formed, "What about you two?"

"My name's Kouno Tooru. I'm glad we met, Sakamoto-chan."

"I'm Yutaka Mikoto, nice to meet you." After the quick introductions, the three boys continued to talk as they all walked to their respective bus stops. Akira left first, leaving Tooru and Mikoto to chat for a minute until the latter of the two had to take a different turn. "Bye Kouno-kun, I had fun today."

"Same here, I hope tomorrow is just as entertaining." Said Tooru as he waved to his new friend while they walked their separate paths. Both smiled as they recalled the memories of that day.

As Mikoto stepped off his bus and started the short walk to his house, he passed by the P-Room. "Oh, great." He muttered, not wanting to have to be reminded of his embarrassing job. He rolled his eyes and was about to look away from the fantastically decorated building, when he noticed a girl slightly older than him crying in the alleyway by the club. Considering the circumstances, (A young girl crying outside a club that often had inappropriate actions and promises tied to it) the boy felt as though he should probably just leave the scene be, but his heartstrings were so easily pulled, and he couldn't help but want to help, as well. The least he could do, he thought, was _comfort_ the girl a bit. So, honestly intending only to provide a shoulder to cry on, Mikoto made his way over to the girl. As he stepped up to the girl, he could feel her eyes watching him as he slid down the brick wall, sitting beside her. "Hey." He said, after a brief silence.

"H- Hi…" The girl replied, her voice faltering slightly because of her tears. She pushed her mussed brown hair behind her ear and continued. "Um… Why are you here?"

"I was just about to ask you that." Mikoto said, and despite the fact that he was irritated that the question seemed accusatory, he gave her a gentle smile. Even Mikoto could sometimes tell when voicing one's opinions would be out of line. "It seems like you've been crying quite a bit. Are you okay?" The girl's gaze immediately shot towards the ground.

"I'm fine." She stated, cold and emotionless. Mikoto flinched, it was as if a spear had been stabbed into his gut. Did that girl have no gratitude? He was _clearly_ trying to be of some help to her, but all she did was respond as if he were a hated enemy.

"Listen, I'm not going to try to attack you, and I have no personal grudge against you. I just saw you crying and I thought you might want some sympathy. But hey, if you want to act like that, I'd be more than happy to leave you be." Mikoto shot, unintentional venom slipping into his words half-way through. Pushing himself up off of the alleyway ground, the boy brushed off his uniform, and started to walk away.

As soon as Mikoto was about to turn the corner, he heard a soft "Wait! P-Please, wait!" Upon looking behind him, he saw the girl standing, and looking at him shyly, slightly embarrassed. He cocked an eyebrow, not trusting himself to make a docile reply. "I was just turned down, at the P-Room, even though I had been guaranteed a spot." The girl looked away. "The manager told me he had just recently found someone who he felt had a better presence, and looked better in a dress." The girl started to cry again as she continued, but Mikoto didn't hear what she said, all he heard were "_Recently_ found someone… better presence… better in a dress."

He gasped, and his eyes widened. A shaking hand found it's way to his mouth as Mikoto slowly backed away from the girl. "I-I'm sorry. It's a terrible thing… that happened. But, I-I have to go." In a split second the boy was running as fast as he could away from the club, the girl's cries growing fainter. "It was me!" He thought to himself, "He… That damn Shihoudani! He broke a promise just so he could see me in a few dresses!"

By the time Mikoto had reached his house, he was not only worn out physically, from running the entire way, but also mentally, from berating himself the entire way as well. He felt horrifically guilty and undeserving. That girl undoubtedly wanted the job far more than he did, yet she was turned down and he was the one who was complainaing about it being embarrassing.

"Honey, are you alright?" Called his worried mother.

"Yeah… I'm fine." He replied, before he added softly to himself. "I just realized that I had better be a damn good girl."


	3. Chapter 3: The Truth Comes Out

EDIT: Heh, umm... I kind of accidentally only put up the last half of this chapter. Sorry if it didn't really make sense, but now the entire thing is up, so please enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Princess Princess, but I do believe that they own my soul.

Warning: This sort of chapter is kinda why it's rated T.

A/N: This was actually supposed to be two different chapters, but because the original first chapter was so short, I figured I might as well stick them together. Bigger is better, right?

Gaaah, I don't believe I managed to make Mikoto sound so mature. I was writing, and it worked in the story so I wrote it, but then I realised that it sounded so grown-up, and I started to wonder if he could actually say that sort of thing with a straight face. But... I guess I just thought of Mikoto as immature just because of how he usually reacts to the dresses, so I think it's possible that he has a mature side as well.

Anywho, enjoy, read and _please_ review. Reviewers get virtual cheesecake.

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"Mikoto-kun, it's time to get out of bed." The young mother urged. It was an hour earlier than the boy needed to be woken up, but she figured that nothing bad would come of starting the day slightly earlier. The teen, however, strongly disagreed. A loud moan came from the large pile of squirming sheets where Mikoto resided. 

"Aww, Moooom, I don't wanna gooo," The boy whined, shifting in the mass of sheets so that his ruffled pink hair became slightly visible. "It's too early to be awake."

The female parental only giggled at her son's sleepiness, "Don't be silly, no it's not." The boy groaned, not agreeing in the slightest. "Now you watch out, if you don't get out of bed soon I'll have to get Megumi-chan to wake you up." In an instant the boy was sitting upright, legs flung over the side of his bed. "I knew you'd see the light eventually." She told him in a sing-song voice, closing the door as she left to make her son breakfast.

"It's just my luck," Mikoto grumbled as he stumbled over to his closet in a half-asleep stupor, "That my mom: Yukano Yutaka, also happens to be the devil. Sheesh." The last time Megumi had woken up Mikoto, the boy's room ended up being soaked with ice water and rice. He was dubbed the cause of it all, and so he had to clean it all up. Despite his whining, however, he obediently changed into his uniform, stumbled down the stairs to eat, then bid his 'devil' mother good-bye as he rushed off to catch the bus.

That day went far too quickly for Mikoto's liking, as had the fourteen days prior to it. It seemed that the time in which he would first begin his job was coming towards him at a disconcerting rate. Each time a clock came into view, a heavy feeling would overcome the freshman's heart, and he would have to "Head out to the washroom" in order to calm himself. The fact that he had to store his dress inside his locker did not help. His only consolation was that nobody in the school knew, and so he didn't have to worry about anyone finding out. Furthermore, he couldn't get over what had happened two weeks ago, and it had been bugging him ever since. 'Why on earth had Yuujiro broken a promise for him?' 'Why was _he_ chosen instead of a far prettier girl?' 'In fact, why was he chosen so quickly?' 'Was it usually decided on the spot?' They were all questions that the boy had thought about endlessly. He couldn't get over how he had indirectly made a girl so incredibly sad.

Mikoto was happily chatting away with Tooru about a new movie that had just come out, and they were planning on seeing it later on that week, given that the homework load wasn't too great. "Yeah, it'd be great if we could see it on Friday, since we get out early. Do you have anything to do then, Yutaka-kun?"

Mikoto pondered the question for a moment, silently going over his schedule. He was about to confirm the date, and tell Tooru that it would work perfectly for him, when suddenly a new, deeper voice joined the conversation. "Hey Mikoto,"

The boy in question turned to face the owner of the new voice, only to have his face contort into confusion, disgust and finally horror. "Shi- shihou-" He wasn't even allowed to finish his sentence before he was interrupted.

"You shouldn't be making any plans for the week without talking to me first," The tall blonde man smoothly walked towards the nervous wreck of a child, and leaned down to him so that their eyes met, his long hair creating a makeshift screen between them and a surprised Tooru. "Because," He slid his hand under the boy's chin, and rubbed it suggestively, "you never know what I'll have planned for _us_."

Mikoto blushed furiously at the insinuated meaning behind all the actions. "What the hell do you mean by that, Shihoudani-san! Moreover, why on earth are you here?" He was angry – very angry – at the fact that his 'manager' had followed him to school and then… The boy blushed even more as he realized that Tooru had borne witness to the entire charade.

"Oh, you know very well what I mean, Mikoto." Leaning backwards, Yuujiro seated himself on the desk between the two freshmen, sliding his body back so that Tooru could see Mikoto, and Mikoto could easily see Tooru's confused and slightly… hurt, look. Yuujiro smirked as he looked at the blue-haired boy. "Plus, I'm surprised you don't know," the blonde looked back at Mikoto. "That I go to school here. See the uniform?"

It was then that Mikoto _did_ see the uniform, along with the intricate metal badge given only to the seniors, and he swore under his breath. "Go away." He mumbled, irritated beyond what he perceived his limits to be. "Just get out of here. I don't want to tal-" Mikoto paused, and re-phrased his sentence, because he _did_ want to talk to him - about that girl. "I'll talk to you later, Shihoudani-san. Leave me alone." The manager looked surprised at the sudden outburst, but left quietly, with a smug smirk on his face. He would make sure that more words were exchanged at a later date, when Mikoto couldn't escape.

There was a silence that fell over the room. It had only been Tooru and Mikoto in it before Yuujiro had shown up, and the lack of other students' chatter in the background was deafening. "I…" Mikoto started to say something, but Tooru stopped him with a pale hand on his own. Mikoto hid his face at first, a light blush running across his cheeks at the sudden skin contact, but he met Tooru's glassy blue eyes when he spoke. Was he… crying?

"It's alright." Tooru smiled kindly at his friend, "I was just… surprised that you knew someone from this school so well already. I had thought that we were in the same position – both coming to Kyoto so that we could come to this school, both not knowing anyone. I guess, I was wrong." Tooru gave a pained smile, but Mikoto immediately knew it was a fake. He'd practiced in the mirror for too long to be so easily fooled.

"No!" Mikoto shouted, standing and grasping his friend's shoulders. "You weren't wrong. That guy…" Mikoto looked down at the ground, he couldn't bear to look at Tooru, it hurt too much to see him look so sad. "I don't even know him. At all." The words were soft, and they barely, regretfully, left his mouth. It really hurt to lie to Tooru for some reason. Perhaps it was because he knew that Tooru probably knew he was lying to him. Whatever it was, though, Tooru smiled at Mikoto. He wrapped his hands around the slimmer, pale ones and squeezed them gently. Despite the small tears in his eyes, Tooru smiled at the warmth of Mikoto's hands, and faced their owner, nodding.

"Alright, I believe you." But he didn't. They both knew that.

As soon as the end-of-the-day bell rang, Mikoto rushed out of his Science class and raced through the hallways. Tooru and Akira were both confused by the rushed exit, but readily accepted the hurried excuse of "I really need to use the washroom." The school was large, the students were fast, and the time in which he had to find _one person_ was running out. A sharp left at the end of a long hallway finally brought the freshman to his destination. All around him were the school's formal black jackets, and all of them were proudly carrying the senior's crest. "Found it." Mikoto whispered to himself. He quickly scanned the crowds of grade twelve's until he spotted who he was looking for. Mikoto took a deep breath, knowing it would take a lot to make his voice audible over the numerous voices of the other students. "Shihoudani!"

Long locks of blonde spun around as Yuujiro looked away from a group of bubbly friends, searching for the owner of the surprisingly loud voice. A smile immediately crawled across his face, though, as gold and pink eyes met across the crowded hallway. "I'm sorry, I have to go." He softly told his peers, then casually approached the younger boy. "Well, well, well, look who we have here." Yuujiro smiled, and let his arm snake around Mikoto's shoulders, pulling the two bodies close together. "It pleases me to know that you went through all the trouble of coming here just to see little 'ole me, Mikoto. I didn't know you liked me that much, but I guess it must be true since you couldn't wait a few ho-" Before Yuujiro could finish, Mikoto wrestled out of his grasp, and pulled him into an empty classroom.

"Like hell that's true. I just need to talk to you." Mikoto snapped angrily at his manager. Taking a moment to calm himself down a bit, he walked to the door, and locked it shut – he didn't want anyone accidentally walking in. Turning around, Mikoto faced his 'manager'. "Listen," He started, his voice taking on a serious tone that Yuujiro was not aware he was capable of. "We need to talk," As the blond smirked and opened his mouth to say something, Mikoto glared him down, and silenced him instantly. He didn't need any inappropriate comments right now. "And since you don't know what I want us to talk about, I'll start." Mikoto took a breath, and an intrigued manager cocked an eyebrow. "It's about that girl – the one you promised could work in P-Room…" The younger of the two searched for any sort of recognition in the older eyes, but he only received a deadly glare that told him to continue. However, that in itself clearly spelt out recognition of some sort for Mikoto. The room had suddenly been filled with a tension unlike any other, and the obvious lack of playful 'meaningful looks' from Yuujiro scared the freshman to death. What on earth had happened with that girl? When Mikoto continued, his voice trembled slightly, "She was the one who was rejected because you apparently recently found someone who looked better in a dress and had better presence. This really worries me because this all happened on _the day I was hired._" Yuujiro looked away from Mikoto, attempting to hide his pained expression. "What in the hell happened, Shihoudani-san?" When he spoke again, he dropped the accusatory tone, and opted for a worried one instead. Yuujiro smiled.

"I have a personal policy which states that I cannot allow myself to hire anyone who is… romantically interested in me." A regretful look washed across the blonde's face, and Mikoto immediately felt bad for asking. It wasn't his business… was it? His guilty conscience was pushed to the side, however, as he remembered how heartbroken the girl had been. Regaining his backbone, Mikoto stared at Yuujiro.

"So then why did you promise her a spot?" Yuujiro flinched. Apparently Mikoto was asking the right questions. "Why did you even _consider_ letting her work there? Why didn't you just say she wasn't fit for the job?" Before he knew it, the freshman had lost control, and his carefully planned inquisition went down the drain, succumbing to his anger at the situation. "Why didn't you just _tell_ her that it wouldn't work, and tell her about your policy! She was hurt! _So_ hurt, by what you told her. You just dangled the prize in front of her, and then snatched it away. You… you…" Pale hands clenched into tight fists as the boy glared at his manager. "I don't understand you. Not because you have that policy, not because you hired me instead of her, and not because you promised her a job. I don't understand you, because to me, it seems as if you did this, planning to hire someone else instead." Mikoto took a calming breath, then quietly continued. "If you went so far as to promise her a spot… Why, Shihoudani, why didn't you just give her the job?" Dead silence washed through the room as the words settled. A cool breeze blew through the room, as if it were trying to take away the confused pain; but it couldn't.

Yuujiro finally looked up at Mikoto, checking if he had more to say, clearly wishing he did. The blonde didn't want to have to discuss this with him like this, much less at all. He desperately wished he could just fly away from the situation with the wind, but it would be impossible, and it wouldn't solve anything. The senior realised that he had to reply, "I… I'm sorry Mikoto, that you had to find out about this." He began to walk around the room, as if the motion would fuel his mind enough to be able to safely explain the situation. "If I could go back, I would have never promised her anything. But…" Yuujiro paused, letting his long fingers trace the various designs that had been etched onto the desks with ink. "But I guess I can't do that, can I?" It was a lame attempt at lightening the mood. Nobody laughed, and another silence filled the room.

After a long pause, Yuujiro continued. "I was naïve." Mikoto stared at the man, wondering if this was just the beginning of another fabulously thought-out act of deception. What convinced him he was receiving the truth, was the regretful look in his eyes as Yuujiro sat on the desk beside him, staring at the setting sun outside the window. "She was the perfect hostess: kind, excited, a great actress… She knew just what to say, when to joke, and how to turn someone down." Mikoto turned to him, and noticed a small smile gracing the other's lips. "Yes, she was certainly a great actress. In fact, I didn't believe her when she told me she loved me," The younger boy watched as the smile and his voice became more bitter as he continued. "At least not the first time." He sat beside the blonde, and suddenly a head was laying on his shoulder. Mikoto's eyes grew wide and he shuddered at the feeling.

"Shihoudani! What do you think you're do-" The feeling of drops of water on his thin shirt interrupted him. Mikoto looked down, and his heart hurt – Yuujiro was crying softly. "Shihoudani…" The guilty conscience, which he had previously locked away, had finally broken free once more. He had gone too far before, and he should have restrained himself. "I'm sorry. I lost control, earlier. I should have restrained myself from saying so much."

"No," A sob. "It's fine. I suppose it's right that you know, I just wish it didn't have to be so soon." His shoulders shook lightly as the tears began to roll down his face in weak streams. Yuujiro hiccupped as he pushed himself away from Mikoto. "Oh god," He muttered, half-laughing as he looked at the boy's tear-stained shirt. Mikoto glanced at him with curious eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"I've gotten your shirt wet, I'm sorry. I really shouldn't be crying it's not that big of a d-" He was cut off by a completely unexpected arm that wrapped around his shoulders, and pulled his head back to where it had once been.

"It's okay. I don't mind." Mikoto smiled at Yuujiro, and gently laid his hand on the soft blonde hair. Being in that position, Mikoto closed his eyes, and thought of how he would often do this for his younger sister – soothe her tears by holding her close, and gently stroking her hair until she fell asleep or calmed down. It was a method that had worked for him for many years in many similar circumstances.

As the quiet sobbing from Yuujiro ceased, so did the movement of Mikoto's hand across his hair. "I thought you were mad at me…" Yuujiro whispered, seeing no need to talk any louder.

"I was, and I still am." The blonde flinched slightly. "But, I know that nobody likes to cry, and so a long time ago I promised myself that, no matter who it was, I would always provide a shoulder to cry on. I learned that sometimes you need to set aside your feelings, so that you can act according to your morals." Yuujiro laughed bitterly.

"I guess that's something I still need to learn." After a minute, when his tears had stopped falling, he sat up and looked at Mikoto. "I had thought that it would be easier for her to accept that it was a 'higher power' which didn't let her get the job, rather than her own feelings. I was going to tell her that the new girl's father had blackmailed me into letting her work. I would tell her that because the new girl was actually good at the job, that I didn't mind…" Mikoto stared at the blonde, incredulous.

"Are you serious?" As unreasonable as he thought his manager was, he thought he had at least more sense than _that_

"Yeah. Like I said, I was naïve… and a little bit stupid." He sighed. "I was convinced it would work, and would get everyone out happily. Then you came along." Mikoto blushed. It sounded like a love confession from a movie. "I saw you walking down the street, and my first thought was 'Wow, that girl should grow her hair out. It'd be gorgeous.'" Mikoto was overcome by an urge to scream that he was a _boy_ thank-you-very-much, but barely managed to resist. "Then I wondered if you had a job, and if you'd like to work at P-Room. I'm sure you remember the rest." The boy in question nodded. He would never forget having Yuujiro walk out of the store and ask him if he would like to see if he were fit for the job. Of course, he immediately refused when he found out what the job was. However, the money that had been mentioned afterwards was a completely different story. "Once I got to know you a bit, I realized that I could never put the burden of that lie on you." Mikoto was grateful, he'd hate to be falsely named the blame of something like that. "So instead I told her the truth." The freshman stared at the blonde.

"The truth? Really?" Did he _actually_ look better in a dress than her? Did he _really_ have better presence? He was disgusted that he found himself feeling slightly proud.

"Yup. I didn't lie at all." Yuujiro grinned devilishly. "Why do you ask?" Mikoto blushed.

"I… I… I just don't see how…" He inched away, and his senior followed. "I could ever…" He moved even farther back until he was trapped between the wall and a devious, smiling Yuujiro. "Umm…"

"Oh, do go on. _Please_." The blonde insisted, holding himself up on his hands and knees.

Mikoto looked away from the golden eyes and the sunlit figure. "I just don't see how I could ever manage to look… better… in a dress than a girl." Crossing his arms and letting a small 'hmph' leave his lips, he ignored the warm breath that tickled his neck. Yuujiro was laughing.

"Oh, you are so cute." Mikoto's face whipped around, eyes wide and staring at his ever-nearing manager.

"What the hell are you talking abo-" A manicured finger found it's way to his mouth, silencing him.

"Please believe me when I say it's _certainly_ possible for a guy to look better than a girl. Whether in dresses, or not." Yuujiro grinned, and Mikoto attempted to swallow his fear.

"That may be true, but it doesn't apply to me." The boy pushed the older man away from him, and quickly slid off of the desk on which he had been trapped. With a defiant look in his eyes, Mikoto glanced at Yuujiro, who was slowly walking towards him. "I'm leaving now, good bye. I will see you in," He quickly looked at his watch, and the blonde took the opening.

There was a loud thud as Mikoto was pushed up against the wall beside the door, Yuujiro's arms on either side of him, holding the younger hands within. Before Mikoto could say anything, a soft voice whispered into his ear, "That's what you think."

Suddenly a pair of surprisingly lush lips were pressed against Mikoto's. The boy struggled to get out of the embrace, but it only became tighter. A moment later, Yuujiro pulled away from the kiss, licked Mikoto's lips, then moved his mouth to the boy's ear. Mikoto groaned audibly as he felt the skilled tongue swirl around his hear, then travel around it to lick at the sensitive skin behind. As he distracted the boy by working on his ear, Yuujiro lifted both of his hands above his head, and held them with one hand in a firm grasp. Without warning, a cool hand slipped under Mikoto's un-tucked shirt, skidding around the hot skin as a moan was elicited. Yuujiro laughed softly, "Enjoying ourselves, are we?"

"You, b… Bastard," The boy swore between his heavy pants. He did _not_ like Yuujiro this way. At. All. Yet, the feelings that were overcoming him were unbelievably good. He hadn't ever felt as warm and pleased as he did then, but he couldn't remember a time when he was nearly as enraged. "Get the hell off of me." He struggled against the powerful hand that held him in place, but couldn't muster enough strength to break free.

Taking a chance, Yuujiro pulled the boy into a kiss, and forced his tongue into his mouth. 'Success.' He thought, as he heard the freshman gasp at the sensation. It was clear that Mikoto was having a hard time holding onto the desperate desire to run away whilst his manager was ravishing him so thoroughly. All he needed was a simple distraction, anything would do, and he could easily run away. If he didn't, then… Mikoto didn't want to think of what could happen otherwise, but it was difficult when a simple kiss could make him moan so intensely.

About to take it to the next step, Yuujiro sensuously slid his hand down Mikoto's chest, just barely grazing the skin with his nails, and let it rest on his belt. "Just relax, Mikoto, and I'll make you feel _amazing._" The senior spoke so quietly that if he hadn't placed his mouth right next to Mikoto's ear, there was no way he could have heard him. His words were just about as quiet as the gasp, which fled from the freshman's mouth.

CRASH.

The sudden sound snared the full attention of Yuujiro, and Mikoto took the opportunity. He yanked his hands out of the weakened grasp, and forcibly shoved the senior away from him and into a desk. As fast as he could, the boy threw open the door and bolted through the hallways at top speed – he felt like if he didn't get out of the school that instant, then he would be doomed to loose more than just his first kiss.

Within an astounding five minutes, Mikoto had escaped the school, ran to the bus stop, and caught his bus. He sat on one of the padded seats in the back, and stared out the window. He noticed his reflection, and could see that his face was still flushed from his encounter with Yuujiro. Anger swelled up inside him as he thought of how easily he had been caught and practically _raped._ But, something felt wrong when he thought of it like that. The thought he wished hadn't come into his mind, repeated endlessly. "Does it count as rape, if it feels good?" He thought about it, about why he didn't try harder to escape, about why he thought he would be safe in an empty room after school with Yuujiro… about why he was just about to give in.

As he looked back at the window, he saw that his pale hand was touching his lips, remembering how soft Yuujiro's were. "No!" He screamed inwardly. "Don't think about it, it'll only make you more confused. It felt good, and you couldn't escape, so of _course_ you'd have second thoughts about struggling." Mikoto told himself, finally justifying his thoughts and actions.

As the bus ride dragged on, the boy directed his thoughts away from the incident, and focused on calming himself down for the job that lay ahead of him. With all that had happened, he had almost forgotten that he still had to work. However, he _had_ forgotten to wonder about what had caused the crash which had saved him. 


	4. Chapter 4: A Bad Decision

AN: Okay, so… I just realized that in this chapter, Tooru acts a bit more like Mikoto than is normal. xD;; It was TOTALLY accidental, I swear, and I only noticed after I had written it. ;; So, I wasn't really keen on having to re-write an entire chapter because I had made Tooru too tempermental. xp (Plus, y'know, I'd re-written it about 37 times already anyway. xD) So, why don't we all just pretend that he's a very unfortunate carrier of permanent male PMS. Or something. xD

I also want to apologize for it being short. This one was supposed to also include a (unfinished) section that I have now decided to place in chapter five. (Solely because it's taking so long to finish.) About 3/4 of that section is done, and even a bit of the intended chapter five (Now chapter six) is done. However, that last 1/4 of the section was being a big pain, so, I felt I should put something out for you guys to read in the meantime. 3 A warning though, I think it's a bit of a cliffhanger.

Anywho Thanks Nostalgic 5947, Jenny, Carpe Diem, japanesenut, loretta537 and Black Shadow of the Dark! I'm glad you guys like it so far. Virtual cheesecake to you all 3  
Jenny and Carpe Diem, you guys'll find out about the crash pretty soon.  
Nostalgic 5947, thank you! I'm glad you that you told me you felt that way about Shihoudani, because I was worried that he would come off just looking like a creepy guy. (Which was far from what I intended) Also, it's not just you - Megumi is portrayed at Mikoto's sister in this story. Sorry, I probably should have written that in somewhere.  
Again, Princess Princess is not mine in any way, shape or form. However, I do claim this particular fictional story as mine, thankyouverymuch. )  
Now, enjoy!

Oct. 19- I edited this chapter a bit, ("He pushed the stop button" - "why should I?") cause I like it better this way, and _of course_ I only thought of it after I posted it already.

* * *

CRASH!

The sounds still echoed in Tooru's ears - the harsh slam of texts hitting the floor, with the swishy flutters of papers falling. The intensely romantic scene still played over again in his mind, and the intense feelings of anger, betrayal, sadness and...jealousy just wouldn't leave his pitiful heart alone. Pressed in between a small break in the lockers that lined the hallways, Tooru muffled his cries with his hands over his face, desperately trying to hide himself from the terrifying truths he had stumbled upon only seconds earlier.

"Why?" He asked himself softly. "Why didn't Mikoto simply _say_ that he was in a relationship with that guy?" He gasped for air, and slowly pushed himself into an upright position. "Why hadn't I been trusted with that information?" He felt the pain well up in his heart, and he slammed a clenched fist against the wall behind him. "Why, instead of having to accidentally find out like this, was I not informed?" As the next thought crossed his mind, Tooru could feel his tears fall from his face in a steady stream.

"Did he _know_ that I had feelings for him?"

Suddenly the door was thrust open, and Tooru saw Mikoto dash out from the room in a fury. "Does he secretly _hate_ me and want me to pay?" Seconds later Tooru, as well, sped away from the scene.

As Tooru ran down the hall, he could hear Mikoto running the opposite way as him - they were drifting farther and farther apart, and it hurt. Bowing his head to conceal his teary face, he pushed his way through all of the doors until he found himself in the open air, on the street.

The crisp, cool breeze stung as it rushed into his lungs through ragged breaths, but it slowly lowered his then-raging temperature. After using the walk to his bus stop to calm his anger for a while, the blue-haired boy fell upon a startling theory:

"What if Mikoto had _wanted_ me to be hurt?"

What if the boy wanted to get revenge on him for some bizarre reason, and he wouldn't stop until he was satisfied. What then?

Just the thought of it made his heart throb with a searing pain he had not known previously possible. Clenching his hands into tight fists, the teen bolted the rest of the way to his bus stop, and managed to catch the bus that was just about to leave. In one swift movement, the boy flashed his pass at the driver, grabbed onto a pole, and swung around into a set of empty seats.

The moment he sat, he felt sick.

He felt as though his air-torn lungs had plummeted into his stomach, and that they then both were quickly climbing up his throat from the mere force of him sitting down. It was disgusting, and Tooru automatically covered his mouth lightly with a hand, as though he had just tasted something foul.

It hadn't been the feeling that had elicited his thought of distaste, though. No, it had been something that he _hadn't _encountered before. It was the fact that he could feel such turmoil over the shocking discovery of his - now likely _ex - _friend's relationship. Why? Because, by all accounts he should be _happy_ for Mikoto, and yet... He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as the bus started to move, and glared daggers at the chair ahead of him. For some reason, he wasn't.

So what. So what if his (ex) best friend - no, it had been more than that; they both knew that - wanted him to be hurt and in pain? It didn't matter. Not in the slightest. Tooru couldn't care less if he didn't matter to Mikoto. He didn't care if Mikoto didn't trust him. He didn't mind that Mikoto lied to him about being with whatshisface...

Right?

He pushed the stop button on the pole, and bolted out of the bus. As Tooru ran down the street in front of him, thoughts of Mikoto flooded his mind. They were practically on a first-name basis, they had already seen each other's bedrooms, and they had been out alone together so many times that he couldn't count them. It had happened so quickly, yet somehow it didn't seem strange to Tooru that Mikoto had become the most important person in his life. Slowing to a walk, the teen turned into an alleyway beside a hostess club. Of _course_ he cared that Mikoto didn't tell him about that Shihoudani guy, and that was why he felt so hurt, and why he wasn't happy about the discovery. But, if even the most important person in his life didn't care about his well-being, why should he?

"Hmph. So he wants me to be hurt?" The teen muttered brokenly under his breath. "Fine. I'll be hurt. I'll be more hurt than he would ever dream of." A wry smile crept onto the young face, as he rubbed his eyes free of tears. "Because, if _he_ doesn't care, why should I?"

It was a bad decision, and he knew it, but given the circumstances, Tooru really couldn't give a damn about whether a decision he made when he was half-drunk on pain and anger would affect his life later on. At least, that was what he had thought before he had actually gotten himself into the predicament.

"So prettyboy, you gonna do it for us, huh?" Came the dirty, husky voice behind him. "You gonna make us all happy?" There was a pause as the smashed group of over-muscled bikers closed in on him. Tooru instinctively backed up, nervous that they were liable to attack. "You gonna make-" Tooru hit a wall and knew, then and there, that he was in deep trouble. "_yourself_ happy?" The boy winced in disgust at the insinuation the perverted drunks were making. There was a cloud of laughter, and suddenly his lithe body had been pushed up against the wall - defenseless.

Tooru could see what was coming, and if he didn't act quickly, then the ending could never be a good one. "I-" He yelped in surprise as he felt wet, stubby fingers push around his chest in a failed attempt to pull his shirt off. The man took what must have been his thousandth swig of whiskey, then leaned in dangerously close to the teen. Tooru squeezed his eyes shut, scared of what he would see. "I... I have a better idea!" His words were shaky and nervous, but they were certainly loud enough to hear. The gang quieted a moment before their self-proclaimed leader pulled his mouth back from his pale neck.

"Oooh, you'za scaredycat now?" His words were slurred together, and almost impossible to understand, but Tooru could have guessed what they were going to say anyways.

"No, I just... Wouldn't you rather have a pretty girl dressed as a maid, with long, curly hair, and innocent eyes that would trust you?" There was a dead silence, and Tooru could tell - as appalled as he was by it - that the old man holding him against the brick wall _certainly_ liked the idea. In what he surmised was supposed to be a swift movement, he was dropped from the wall, and the leader pulled his gang into a huddle. Moments later, they emerged with new demands: Get the girl for them, and if he didn't, he'd substitute. For all of them.


End file.
